Oh wait, it was mine. Dur.
Yes, mom and I did the Emperor's Challenge this weekend. How was it? It has insanely fucking hard, that's how it was!
Let me go back to the beginning....
A while back, mom and I decided we were going to attempt this mighty challenge. We've both done big long hikes before, and figured this would be a good thing to work towards.
At the start, before our realities were shattered.
From there, you go off onto some fairly easy trails for about three more kilometres. The path goes through grassy areas, muddy areas and slightly rocky areas. Again, not too bad.
Then we get to kilometre six, which is also going up a dirt road. By this point, I don't know what the elevation is, but I'm starting to get a little wheezy. I just chalk it up to going uphill. Uphills are not my friends.
Mom keeps asking if I'm okay, which I tell her I am, I'm just getting a little tired. We stop and have a water and trail mix break, then keep going.
Between kilometre six and seven, there's a steep section that takes us up and over a bunch of boulders and crevasses. It's here that I really start having trouble catching my breath.
We make it over that rise, and can see the next water station across the little valley. Now, I had it in my head that we had to make it to the 8.5 kilometre water station by 11 a.m. An official that was on the trail told us as we looked over that mini valley that it was 10:20 a.m. We had 40 minutes, surely we could make that...
Mom wanted me to rest again. Oh hells no, we have to make it over there or they won't let us continue!
So we trudged on.
We did in fact make it to the water station, where we got our water bottles refilled and ate some jellybeans. We also found out that we had until 11:30 to make it there, not 11, so we were doing fine and just kept going.
I will say, those six kilometres between water stations were probably the longest six kilometres of the whole race. I get why they were so far apart – there really was no good place for one during that stretch – but it would have helped me since my own water ran out long before we got there.
Okay, we're getting closer to the summit! Only a couple more kilometres, yay! Oh, and the air is getting thinner and I'm having trouble getting oxygen to my lungs! Booooooo! Thank fuck I brought my inhaler with me.
Did I mention that before the summit is the steepest part of the course that is practically straight up? Because it is.
After taking the teeniest little baby steps up the Slope of Doom, where more people were watching me huff and puff as I dragged myself up the slope with my poles, the water station was in sight... or not, because there were more rolling hills to drag my ass over.
Those poles saved my life on that mountain, I don't think I would have been able to finish without them.
Anyhoo, we made it to the 11 kilometre water station, which was just before the summit. Maybe 10 minutes prior to that, we saw some of the racers turning around on the road up ahead and coming back down, followed by a truck. We thought that they had been told by buddy in the truck that they missed a cutoff and wouldn't be allowed to continue, which likely meant we wouldn't be allowed to continue.
As tired as I was, I nearly cried. We were over halfway done, they couldn't make us quit now!!
Fortunately, truck guy informed us that those people coming down the hill weren't actually following the marked path, that's why they were sent back down.
Phew!
Once we finally made it to the summit, we stopped for another water and trail mix break. I have to say, the advice mom got from her genius chiropractor was pure gold. Normally I likely wouldn't have bothered eating anything, but every time I had a handful of the trail mix, I actually felt better.
The human body is a fascinating machine. A very worn out machine at this point:
I tried to smile for this, but kind of grimaced instead. Not attractive.
As I said, uphill was hard for me. Going uphill was very hard on my lungs. Going downhill would prove to be hard on my knees.
I'd still take downhill any day of the week – being able to breathe is worth any leg pain.
I think I got a mini second wind once we got to the downhill portion, as I could move a bit faster since I wasn't exerting my lungs quite as much. As the kilometre signs got higher in value, and the end getting ever closer, mom and I resolved to plow on ahead because you know what? We were gonna finish this bitch if it killed us!
More likely kill me than her, but whatever.
Originally we had planned on jogging down the road for the last few kilometres, but honestly, my legs couldn't have handled it if I had wanted to. My feet were numb, the back of my legs under my kneecaps were tight and my hips and ass were burning.
The kilometre countdown at that point felt more like we were being mocked than something to look forward to. Whatdya mean there's still three kilometres to go!?!? Do you know how FAR that is!?!?
Even worse was the fact that you could see the finish line across the valley as you went down that road. It seemed like it never got any closer until you hit the last kilometre.
We arrived at the final water station to people clapping for us and giving us encouragement. They didn't say we were too late or anything, so we had some water and kept going.
The last two kilometres saw a bunch of trucks come down the road after us – water station volunteers. One even asked if we wanted a ride. I think she was kidding. I think.
Finally we pass the 19 kilometre sign and know this hell is almost over. We head up the towards the parking lot/campsite and what do we see? People getting into vehicles and leaving.
Neither of us had a watch throughout this whole thing – we'd asked volunteers what time it was – and started wondering if we were too late if people were leaving. Was it past 2 p.m.? Was the finish line taken down? Did we fail miserably!?!?
Only one way to find out.... Keep walking, bitches!
We must've found renewed strength or something, because we plowed through up to our original starting point... everything was still there! And what was that I saw, was that the time clock!?!
It read 4:47:34
We had about 12 minutes to spare as we crossed the finish line.
I almost started crying but realized I was too tired for that shit as the lady put the bronze medal around mine and mom's necks.
We did it. WE FUCKING DID IT!!!!!
Barely, but whatevs! We finished in under the five hour time limit, we got the medals to prove it, and now we could say we did a half marathon!
Would I do it again? Right now the answer is "holy fuckballs, not a chance in hell!" However, once I forget about the pain and the whole not breathing thing, I'm sure I'll change my tune in like six months.
Despite that, I'm proud of mom and I'm proud of me for setting out to do this and actually finishing. I now have bragging rights for something that a lot of people would never even consider attempting.
My medal, bitches. I'm so not lucid in this photo....
Just Keep Walking,
Ginger.
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